–I was watching the US Presidential Elections this week (like everyone else!) and when I saw this front page on the tube, I thought ‘What would it be like if Donald Trump was a really decent person?’-
08/11/2016: 08:15 pm (EST)
A large blonde man, wearing a red tie that drapes down his belly, sits in an imposing leather chair. The glare of the huge television he’s watching reduces the tan on his face and illuminates hints of a very large room expanding behind him in the dark. He’s screwing his eyes up slightly at the white-blue screen, watching a big map of the USA. A couple of states are coloured red, whilst much of the North-East Coast is blue. Slowly, he tugs the tie loose and lays it down to his side. With his other hand, he reaches into his inside pocket and pulls out a Smartphone.
Along the bottom of the TV screen shows:
The man glances at the TV, smiles, and starts a video call.
“Hillary,” he grins, “are you seeing what I’m seeing?”
“You bet,” says the blonde woman on the screen, with a purple-lipsticked smile.
“Let’s wait for Florida.”
“First female President,” he shakes his head, “who would have believed us three years ago?”
“They would have thought you’re as mad as they do now.”
Donald laughs a loud, commanding laugh, “still think the global warming bit was too much?”
Hillary settles for a humble smile. Her eyes dart to the left of the screen where, no doubt, her phone and campaign managers are keeping her up to date.
“We haven’t won yet,” she says, with a firm nod.
“How many Presidents do you know who told the world they like to grab women by the pussy?”
“By. The. PUSSY.”
She smiles big and bold, “not many people would do what you have done.”
He scoffs and waves a plump hand about, “we’ve had a black President. God knows, it’s time we had a woman in the Oval Office.”
“Yeah, but to make the world, the American people think you’re a…”
“Bah!” he’s laughing again, “lies and image are what politics is all about. Wasn’t I the smart guy who said ‘good people don’t go into politics’?”
TV: Clinton leads by 6 points in North Carolina.
They exchange a smile.
“God, Florida is taking its honey-sweet time isn’t it?” Clinton furrows her brow.
“They are sitting on the fence aren’t they?” he prods the tie so that it falls onto the floor.
“Maybe they are waiting for you to build a wall for them to sit on.”
He grins, “A great, great wall to make our great country great. Great.”
08/11/2016: 09:00pm (EST):
Donald is pacing up and down in front of the couch. He is still holding the smartphone in front of him with Hillary’s face watching him. He is wearing a pair of earphones, and is trying to jab the inlet into the audio socket. He ultimately fails and throws the headphones onto the couch.
“What the hell is going on Hillary?”
“Look, just be calm…”
“Calm? I’m even leading in Ohio!”
“I know, I did see.”
“And Florida, who thought up that joke?”
“It’s not over yet…”
“Are we looking at the same map?” He spins around to stare at the TV, “because I’m seeing a whole lot of red for a country that’s supposed to have a Democrat President in a few hours.”
“Just because you’re leading, doesn’t mean you’re going to win. It’s only 1.3% points difference in Florida. We can still do this.”
“How? Do they really want a President whose taxes are being investigated? You know, position of trust and all that?”
“Oh my God, would you just relax? Some people are bound to have been shaken by my e-mails…”
“Your e-mails,” Donald raises his yellow eyebrows at her. “Hillary, I told a judge she was biased because she was Mexican. How many women do I have to call dogs and horses before one gets elected as President?”
“Give me some credit for my campaigning, Donald. I like to think that I won people over just as much as you repelled them.”
“Yeah, yeah you did. Just… some of the stuff I said…” he waves his free hand up in air, then leaves it there, spread out and aloft.
“The thing about gunning me down during our debate was a little disturbing.”
“That was kind of the point,” he sinks down onto the couch and shakes his head at the red-white light of the TV.
Hillary glances to the right, and quickly looks back at him with a thin smile and quick nod. “The people know what sort of President they want.”
Donald rubs his temple, “what will I do if they elect me?”
“Be the best President you can be,” Hillary says, blinking hard.
“I can’t ban Muslims or punish women who get abortions.”
“You won’t have to.”
“I can’t go back on everything they voted for,” Donald rubs his hand over his face, pulling at the tanned, loose skin, “this is not how I thought I was going to spend the night.”
“I need to do something,” he stands up, “give them one last push.”
“What are you talking about?” Hilary’s eyes flare before she quickly regains composure.
“I’ll post a picture of me giving everyone the thumbs up!”
“That will look really obnoxious.”
“Exactly!” He marches away from the TV.
“MELANIA!!!!” he yells.
09/11/2016: 00:30am (EST):
Donald is staring, open-mouthed at the TV screen. Hilary’s grave, tired face looks out of the phone hanging in his limp hand. The map of the USA appears on the screen, flashing a glaring, red patch across his face. He looks like an orange rabbit caught in the headlights.
“I’m…” he’s voices shudders, “I am going to be…”
Hillary whispers, “President.”
Donald continues to gape into the television. Slowly, he lifts the phone so that he is looking directly at Hillary. She looks old, but not as old as him.
–Ms Always Write–